Class 




Book , h z^ 

Copyright N° 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 



The Twin 
Seven-Shooters. 




CHARLES F. MANDERSON 
Colonel 19th Ohio Infantry. 
Brevet Brigadier General Volunteers, U. 



S. A. 



The Twin Seven-Shooters. 



BY 



CHARLES F. MANDERSON 

LATB COLONEL I9TH OHIO VOLUNTEER INFANTRY, BREVET 
BRIGADIER-GENERAL VOLS., U.S.A. 




F. TENNYSON NEELY 



1 14 Fifth Avenue 
NEW YORK 



96 Queen Street 
LONDON 



I 



MAR J3 1905 

-.vouyntrm tutry 

Ol_',Si> /? XAc. Not 

COPT a. 



Copyright, 1902, 

by 

CHARLES F. MANDERSON, 

in the 

United States 

and 

Great Britain. 

Entered at Stationers' Hall, 
London. 



All Rights Reserved. 



The Twin Seven-Shoottrt. 



"We came into the world like brother and 

brother, 
And now let's go hand in hand, not one 
before another." 
— Dromio, in "Comedy of Errors." 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Prologue 5 

SCENE I. 
The Battle -.-. 9 

SCENE II. 
The Presentation 24 

SCENE III. 
The Capture 29 

SCENE IV. 
The Reunion -.- 44 



Epilogue 51 



INTRODUCTION. 



The telling of this truthful story of the 
Great War comes from the numerous re- 
quests of comrades, who knew somewhat 
of the presentation, the capture and the 
return of the pair of revolvers that came 
together after a quarter of a century of 
separation and after they had been carried 
and used under two flags. Their restora- 
tion could not have been had under any 
other condition than that which came 
about at the close of our gigantic struggle. 

The Civil War was waged on both the 
Federal and Confederate sides with an in- 
tensity and manly vigor characteristic of 



iv Introduction. 

the race that sprang from the loins of the 
Puritan and the Cavalier. 

The immense hosts that combated upon 
so many dreadful fields, with the incident 
sacrifice of life and limb, while actuated 
by the desire to win, by comparison with 
which individual loss counted as nothing, 
were never prompted by personal hatred 
or ill will. They fought to obtain the re- 
sult desired, and when the end came, with 
its feeling of exultation by the one and of 
depression by the other, there was mutual 
respect and common consideration, that 
led naturally to a reunited country and 
the placing of the Great Republic in its 
present position as the Chiefest of Nations. 

The story permits a description of two 
great battles — that of Murfreesboro, or 
Stone's River, and of Chattanooga, or Mis- 
sion Ridge — the first-named one of the 



Introduction. v 

hardest fought fields of the War, and the 
last, one of the most spectacular. The re- 
cital of these calls for no explanation, and 
I hope the personal equation of the story 
needs no apology. 

Charles P. Manderson, 

Late Colonel, 19th Regiment 

Ohio Infantry. 
BVt Brig. Gen. Vols., U. S. A. 




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PROLOGUE. 

Resting quietly in their polished case of 
dark mahogany, with its soft lining of tufted 
crimson silk, they look harmless indeed and 
as though their lives had been uneventful. 
Yet, could they speak with other tongues 
than those of fire and smoke, they could tell 
a tale to interest and thrill — of scenes of 
bloody encounter and deadly strife, of com- 
bat and carnage, of victory and defeat, of 
raid and destruction, of pursuit and capture, 
of loss and recovery, of separation and re- 
union, — in short, the exciting story of war, 
and the captivating tale of peace. 

You take up the pair of revolvers with a 
new interest. Yes! they are handsome. 



6 Prologue. 

Shapely and well proportioned, they deserve 
your exclamation of admiration. The blued 
steel of barrels and cylinders contrasts at- 
tractively with the silver mounting of the 
handles, so well fitted to the grasp. 

You take them in hand ! You glance 
along the sights ! Ah ! my friend, time was 
when the threatening glint of the eye that 
brought these sights in line was quite dif- 
ferent from the gentle light in yours. And 
now you read inquiringly the inscription, 
showing the presentation, deeply engraved 
upon the silver handle band of each seven 
shooter. Yes, I am the regimental com- 
mander to whom they were presented, by the 
braves of the gallant 19th Regiment of Ohio 
Infantry, nearly forty years ago. I had 
lived but little over half that many years, 
when they came to me and, since the date 
you read upon them, I have grown grizzled. 



Prologue. 7 

The scene of the presentation, the causes 
that led to it and the after events of note, are 
as vivid as though they were of yesterday 
and yet there is the strange feeling as though 
I spoke of some other and not of myself. 
I take it that most of us who served through 
those four momentous years of gigantic war 
now feel as though the experiences were 
those of a third person, of whom we had 
knowledge, intimate indeed, but with whom 
we had not identity. As you ask for the 
story, it shall be given unto you. 




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The Twin Seven-Shooters* 



SCENE I. 

THE BATTLE. 



The recital will start fairly on Christmas 
day of the year 1862, near Nashville, in the 
camps of the Army of the Cumberland, then 
commanded by General Rosecrans. 

The festive holiday time had increased the 
usually present disease, until home-sickness 
was the all-pervading complaint. As the 
picket peered through the gloomy air under 
the dull, wintry sky, he saw, in his mind's 
eye, the dear ones at home, gathered about 
the yule-log. The sentry's thoughts were 
far away, as he challenged the approaching 



10 The Twin Seven-Shooters. 

guard, that brought relief, but gave none 
save in name, and received the sharp replies, 
so different from the words of good cheer 
properly incident to the time. The men 
gathered about the camp fires during the 
evening hours with abortive attempts at 
merriment, soon to be given up, and then to 
talk in whispers of friends and family and 
home. The bugle calls, holding out the 
promise that balmy sleep might bring for- 
getf ulness, were welcomed ; although tattoo 
seemed a wail, and lights-out a sob. 

The restless quiet of a great military camp 
comes at last. A nest of sleeping souls, it 
heaves with sound. The sentinels look like 
stalking ghosts. 

After midnight the dreaming sleepers are 
disturbed by the clank of the sabre of the 
orderly, seeking the headquarters of regi- 
ments to deliver an important order. Be 



The Battle. ll 

quick ! Light the candle stuck in the bay- 
onet shank at the head of the ground bed 
where lies the regimental commander. 

Ah! Here is a Christmas gift with a 
vengeance! Read! 

"You will place your command in readi- 
ness to march at daylight. Move very light 
—three days' rations in haversacks and two 
days' in wagons. Forty rounds of ammuni- 
tion on each man, with all the reserve am- 
munition in wagons. Take no tents and no 
baggage." 

A battle order! Up and be stirring, for 
there is much to be done before daylight. 
Sleepers are aroused, their dreams of home 
and its festivities rudely disturbed, tents are 
struck and rolled, and, with the baggage and 
surplus stores packed into wagons to be sent 
within the earth-works of Nashville. 

Reveille finds the Army of the Cumber- 



12 The Twin Seven-Shooters. 

land, nearly fifty thousand strong, on the 
march to attack the Confederates under 
Bragg at Murfreesborough, thirty miles 
away. No holiday march this, I assure 
you. The enemy is alert. He harasses 
our front with artillery, attacks our flanks 
with infantry and harries our rear with 
cavalry. The elements seem in league with 
him, for snow, sleet and rain make heavy 
roads, at which men swear and in which 
wagons and artillery flounder and stall. 

Four days of skirmishing and hard march- 
ing, with four nights of unrest and chilly 
misery bring us to our objective — the enemy. 
He has selected his battle ground on the 
bank of Stone's River, a swift stream, in 
places fordable. 

The night of December 30th we slept, or 
essayed to sleep, upon our arms, without 
fires. Never can I forget the dispirited and 



The Battle. 13 

woe-begone look of the men as, rising from 
the frozen ground, they shook themselves at 
daylight. The hoar-frost covered them, giv- 
ing to the uniforms of blue a new color, re- 
sembling somewhat the grey of the foe. Is 
there fighting quality in this line of shiver- 
ing men? Can the battle fire be kindled 
in these chilled frames? A cold breakfast 
from the haversacks, a tin cup of coffee to 
each man, a warming drill in the manual of 
arms and their appearance is changed for 
the better. 

The order comes! We are to cross 
Stone's River at the lower ford and lead the 
attack upon the enemy's right. Rosecrans 
will strike with his left. 

An inspection of the guns, a distribution 
of ammunition, filling both cartridge boxes 
and haversacks, some words of encourage- 
ment and cheer from the youthful com- 



14 The Twin Seven-Shooters. 

mander, and we move to the river bank, to 
find our crossing, by wading the cold stream, 
unopposed by the enemy. We form in line 
of battle upon the other side and are about 
to advance to the attack, when the sound of 
cannon, heard but faintly from our right a 
short time ago, becomes louder and more 
loud. A terrific battle is raging there and 
the movement of sound means our men are 
being driven. We are halted. There is stir 
and excitement among the division staff. 
We are ordered to recross the river and has- 
ten to the support of the right wing. 

Bragg, actuated by the same motive as 
Rosecrans, conceiving the same plan, had 
attacked our right, but his fresh and shel- 
tered troops struck their blow at an earlier 
hour. They doubled our line back upon 
itself. They took our straight bar of iron 



The Battle. 15 

and bent it into a horse-shoe. Our right 
flank had become our rear. 

Defeat seemed imminent. On our hur- 
ried way, the 19th Ohio, leading Crittenden's 
Division, met horses, teams and men in con- 
fusion most confounded. Rousseau, of Ken- 
tucky, riding bare-headed, cries to me, 
"What troops are these?" and to my answer 
says, with tearful entreaty in his voice, "For 
God's sake ! get quickly to the cedars on our 
right and stop this rout." We hasten on. 
Rosecrans, pale with anguish of the thought 
that Garesche, bosom friend and Chief of 
Staff, had just been killed by his side, but- 
determined of purpose and confident in bear- 
ing, says, "Men ! you can save the day. Will 
you do it?" "Aye! Aye! sir; if mortal men 
can, we will !" 

We pass from the march by the flank into 
line under the direction of the Commanding 



16 The Twin Seven-Shooters. 

General himself, ruy regiment forming the 
right of the front line. 

The grey coats, flushed with success that 
is so near victory, came gaily on. We wait 
until they are within easy range. It is a 
weary waiting and hard to endure. Our 
men are falling rapidly under the fire of the 
advancing foe. My favorite mare drops 
dead with a ball through her gentle heart. 
Adjutant Brewer, always alert and devoted 
replaces her with his good grey. Rising 
from the ground, with no great bodily harm, 
although I had been pitched headlong, I ex- 
claim : "But, Adjutant, my glasses are 
broken into many bits and I see dimly." 
"Never mind ; I will see for you," he quickly 
responds. And so he did". Gallant fellow ! 
Brave heart ! He gave his young life to his 
country and his parting benediction to me 








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The Battle. 17 

afterwards, in a desperate melee and fearful 
eharge. 

At last the order to fire! From every 
musket leaps a missile of death. The Con- 
federate line wavers! Strong young teeth 
tear the cartridges. We load and fire with 
energy. The grey line breaks! A charge is 
ordered by Kosecrans in person. They run! 
How inspiring! What exhilaration! With 
wild yells we rush on. We regain much of 
the ground lost in the early morning and 
hold it fast and firm. 

Again the nightfall, the last of the event- 
ful year. What horrid din, of cannon and 
of watchful picket's gun, to disturb and 
harass the weary unharmed, who seek to 
sleep. How cold and miserable the wounded 
in blue and grey who groan and moan be- 
tween the lines, where succor cannot come. 

Morn at last ! The new year has come. 



18 The Twin Seven-Shooters. 

Both, armies are so torn and shattered that 
the re-forming of lines and watchful rest is 
a necessity. The day passes in care for the 
wounded and hasty burial of the dead. 

Another night, and again the morning, 
Who will strike the blow? Rosecrans, tena- 
cious of purpose, returns to his original 
plan. Again our division fords Stone's 
River in front of the enemy's right. The 
shortened line of each regiment tells the 
story of the slaughter of the 31st. We wait 
patiently the order to strike. 

The hours pass. Few in number, our di- 
vision is a tempting bait to Bragg. Gen- 
eral Breckenridge, with a column of many 
lines, advances upon us. With precision of 
movement they march across the open fields. 
The sight fascinates us! Splendid specta- 
cle! They break the charm by opening fire 
and charging upon us with the shrill yell of 



The Battle. 19 

the South. With a crash the lines meet, to 
mingle a moment and break apart. Our re- 
serve becomes our front line. We fight for 
minutes that seem hours, with bayonet and 
clubbed musket, with deep cursing and loud 
jells, with hot rage and bold defiance, that 
rarest of happenings in battle comes to us— 
a hand to hand fight between lines of in- 
fantry upon an open field. We are over- 
whelmed by numbers and flanked by the 
greater force. Thrice has our color bearer 
been felled to earth, and of all the color 
guard not one is unhurt. 

But the regimental flag does not touch 
the ground. Gallant Phil Reefy, Lieutenant 
of Company F, strong and stalwart, bears 
it aloft. Sullenly we retreat to the river 
bank, fighting as we retire. We reach the 
stream. 

What is that deafening roar? It is as 



20 The Twin Seven-Shooters. 

though heaven and earth had come together. 
Fifty-two guns, massed by Mendenhall, 
Chief of Artillery, commanding the position 
we had just left, have opened with grape 
and canister at short range upon the but 
now exultant foe. What dreadful slaugh- 
ter ! Masses of men fall writhing as the mis- 
siles hurtle through the air. They turn and 
flee, for mortal men cannot withstand such 
storm. 

We pursue until darkness comes, captur- 
ing prisoners, guns and stores, and Reefy, 
proudly exultant, plants the flag of the 
19th Ohio upon two cannon captured in the 
tempestuous pursuit. 

No battle of the war shows the dash, 
pluck, bravery and endurance of the Ameri- 
can soldier better than Stone's River. The 
attack, so spirited and bold, upon the right 
wing, under McCook, in the gray dawn of 







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The Battle. 21 

that winter morning, that forced it back un- 
til the exultant enemy was not only on our 
flank but in our rear ! The speedy taking of 
new positions by the troops of the left wing, 
under Crittenden ; their gallant and success- 
ful charge in the cedars that regained much 
of the ground so ruinously lost ! 

The sturdy and immovable stand of the 
center, under Thomas, that resisted assaults 
most impetuous and broke the charging col- 
umns into disorganized fragments, as waves 
are broken on a rock-bound coast ! The dash 
of the Southerners in attack, the steadiness 
of the Northerners in resistance, the impul- 
sive ardor of the one, the deliberate repose 
of the other; both so characteristic! The 
bold front, the confident daring, the personal 
exposure, the actual leadership, and the un- 
conquerable spirit of Rosecrans, that 



22 The Twin Seven-Shooters. 

"plucked victory from defeat and glory from 
disaster !" 

All this, any of this, was worth the sacri- 
fice of life itself to see. 

It stands in history as a bright page. The 
dreadful figures of loss tell the story of how 
terribly sanguinary were the engagements 
when Americans fought each other. Of 44,- 
000 Federals, 12,000, and of 38,000 Confed- 
erates, 10,000 were killed and wounded — 
over twenty-five per cent. Recall the fact 
that at Waterloo, Wellington lost less than 
twelve, and at Marengo and Austerlitz, Na- 
poleon lost less than fifteen per cent. 

At daylight the next morning, after the 
battle, my line was formed. Shorn was it of 
half its length, for forty per cent, had fallen. 
Three officers were killed and three wound- 
ed. Company B, with more of its own dead 
to bury than there were unhurt survivors to 



The Battle. 23 

do them honor. Ah ! the familiar faces gone 
from us. We who were left looked upon each 
other with feelings unknown before. We felt 
a kinship stronger than brotherhood, as 
though we were parts of one body. 

We heard read, with infinite satisfaction, 
of the glory of our achievements, the con- 
gratulations of the General and the thanks 
of President Lincoln. We shook hands with 
each other that we had been specially men- 
tioned in the reports, and took satisfactory 
delight that the commander of the 79th In- 
diana had officially reported that the good 
behavior of his command might be attribu- 
ted to the splendid conduct of the 19th Ohio, 
and to the effect of our example. 

We were heroes all, and were proudly con- 
scious of the fact. 



24 The Twin Seven-Shooters. 



SCENE II. 

THE PRESENTATION. 

The restful weeks following the great bat- 
tle go slowly by. The ranks of the regiment 
fill up from the return of the slightly 
wounded and the detached. The white tents 
about Murfreesborough, placed in regular 
rows, form a new city of vast extent. Camp 
duties, drills, inspection, review, guard 
mounting and dress parade fill the busy 
hours. The fighting giant is in training for 
the summer campaign of Tullahoma and the 
advance into Georgia. 

I recall the afternoon of a perfect day in 
the early spring time. Parade over and dis- 



The Presentation. 25 

missed, by some preconcerted signal, to me 
unknown, the first sergeants do not march 
the men to quarters, but go to their positions 
and company commanders take their places 
in line. "Attention! Battalion!" shouts 
Major Stratton, assuming the command. I 
look on somewhat amazed at this sudden de- 
votion to a drill not down in the camp or- 
ders. 

The battalion forms square. I am in- 
vited to it, and with speech all too compli- 
mentary and feeling reference to the great 
battle, its losses and its gains, am presented 
with the beautiful weapons you here admire. 

The surprise is only excelled by my de- 
light with the gift. They shall be worn with 
pride, they shall be used in honor. 

I cherish them for the sake of the givers, 
and practice to know how and to become 
worthy to use them. They stand me in good 



26 The Twin Seven-Shooters. 

stead very often, and familiarity with them 
does not breed contempt of their power. 

Months go by. The Tullahoma campaign 
has been fought to a finish. On ostensible 
recruiting service, but really for participa- 
tion in the momentous Brough-Vallandig- 
hain campaign in Ohio, the opportunity is 
afforded me to go home for a brief season. 
I avail myself of it, and take proudly home 
to show to friends the gift of comrades be- 
loved. 

The duty in the north performed, I turn 
south to rejoin the command. The military 
situation is most interesting. Like the 
sharp end of a lance, the western army has 
pierced into the very vitals of the Confed- 
eracy. Rosecrans has won his objective, 
Chattanooga; paying therefor the bloody 
penalty of Chickamauga, but is practically 
besieged by an enemy whose camp fires light 



The Presentation. 27 

the many miles of horizon, from where the 
crouching lion of lofty Lookout Mountain, 
with extended paws, touches the Tennessee, 
around the semi-circle of frowning ridges to 
where the strongly intrenched line again 
touches the deep flowing river at Tunnel 
Hill. He is relieved from command by the 
powers that be, and Thomas, the reliable, the 
Rock of Chickamauga, beloved of all men, 
takes his place as chief. He declares his in- 
tention to hold his great strategic position 
"until we starve," and unless help comes, 
starvation seems probable. 

Hooker is on his way from the east with 
two corps of veterans of the Potomac, and 
Sherman marches to us with the victorious 
columns, flushed with the capture of Vieks- 
burg, from the banks of the Mississippi. 
The great Captain, with the fame of Fort 
Donelson and Shiloh, comes also, to assume 



28 The Twin Seven-Shooters. 

supreme command. Grant! Sherman! 
Thomas! Behold the triumvirate! Truly, 
the great game of war is now to be played by 
experts. I hasten to take place as one of the 
pawns. 




GENERAL JOSEPH WHEELER 
'he Marshall Ney of the Confederacy. 



The Capture. 29 



SCENE ill. 

THE CAPTURE. 

Where the fight was the fiercest at Stone's 
River, Captain Keel, of ours, in gallant lead- 
ership of his company, was shot in the 
elbow of his right arm. Surgical skill had 
prevented amputation and obtained exsec- 
tion, resulting in a cartilaginous elbow and 
sorely crippled hand. Thus maimed, he 
came to me at Nashville and declared his 
intention of reporting for duty. Condemn- 
ing his judgment, but admiring his pluck, I 
said, "All right, Captain, we will take the 
first train for the front." 

We reached Stevenson, Alabama, the end 



30 The Twin Seven-Shooters. 

of our ride over rough and worn pieces of 
iron, dignified by the name of railroad. 
From there a mountain wagon road formed 
the connection with the army at Chatta- 
nooga. Its course could be traced by the 
fragments of broken wagons, abandoned 
stores, and by the carcasses of the poor 
mules, strangled in the mud of it. Trains 
laden with ammunition, food and forage 
started daily from Stevenson. The time of 
their arrival, at the end of the pontoon 
bridge across from Chattanooga was an un- 
known quantity. It was at least two and 
more frequently four days. 

My anxiety to reach the regiment was in- 
tense. Upon inquiry I heard of a bridle path 
leading over the mountain and along the 
bank of the river. By starting early and 
riding hard, one might get through in a day, 
but it was the path of danger. The guns of 



The Capture. 31 

the Confederates commanded this road, and 
some of our men had been killed, others 
wounded and captured, who tried it. I de- 
termined to make the effort. The Colonel 
commanding the post, in response to my 
earnest appeal, loaned me two horses and an 
orderly, and we started at the first peep 
of day. 

Keel, too greatly disabled to ride a horse, 
was to go by the wagon road, taking the 
baggage of both. He evinced no reluctance 
when he found that as companions in the 
same wagon he was to have two estimable 
women of the Christian Commission, who, 
with supplies for the sick and wounded, were 
bound to Chattanooga upon their heaven in- 
spired mission. 

Realizing that my route was hazardous, 
I put on my oldest uniform, stripped myself 
of all valuables, packing them carefully in 



32 The Twin Seven-Shooters. 

the trunk that contained all of my earthly 
possessions. Determined that my beloved 
pistols should not fall into the hands of the 
enemy, I lodged them securely in my trunk, 
taking in their stead a pair of common hol- 
ster revolvers. 

The orderly and I rode through without 
mishap, receiving no shot and seeing but 
few of the enemy. Arrived at regimental 
headquarters, I found all well, and received 
a welcome home that thrilled me. I waited, 
somewhat impatiently, for the disabled Cap- 
tain to arrive with the baggage so greatly 
needed. 

The days passed away and gave no sign of 
him until the fifth after my arrival, when a 
sorry figure rode to the front of my tent. 
Seated upon a mule that had upon him parts 
of wagon harness, was the Captain, a woful 
figure, with rueful countenance. Don 



The Capture. 33 

Quixote appeared not so disconsolate even 
after his battle with the knights of the 
windmill. We would have laughed aloud at 
his sorry plight had his aspect not been so 
serious. "For God's sake, food and drink !" 
he cried. Being properly refreshed, he told 
his tale of woe. The train of wagons was 
proceeding slowly along the weary road, 
when sharp firing at its front evidenced an 
attack. Wheeler's cavalry had crossed the 
river and was on one of the raids in our 
rear that made the name of General Joe 
Wheeler one with which to scare teamsters 
and worry commanders. 

The Captain was a man of proper gallant- 
ry, a fitting squire of dames, but, withal, not 
lacking in judicious discretion. The Con- 
federate troopers certainly would not molest 
the women, bent upon their righteous mis- 
sion, but to him captivity meant worse than 



34 The Twin Seven-Shooters. 

death. Making hasty excuses, in uncere- 
monious fashion, he jumped from the wagon, 
pulled a colored teamster off of a mule that 
he had just cut out of the traces of a wagon, 
mounted and took quickly to the woods on 
the side of the mountain. As he plunged 
deeper into the thicket, he saw in the val- 
ley the light of burning wagons, and heard 
the terrific explosions of ammunition with 
which many of them were loaded. After 
days and nights of distress he at last found 
his way to our camps. 

A day or two after, hearing that the fe- 
male companions of the good captain had 
reached our lines, I called upon them in the 
town and heard the rest of the story. Wheel- 
er's rough riders had treated them with 
courteous consideration and did not molest 
their trunks when told that they contained 
only woman's apparel. Keel's baggage and 



The Capture. 35 

my own was evidently rich booty. The new 
uniforms were seized with delight, and my 
precious seven-shooters appropriated with 
exclamations of joy and admiration. Taking 
what was wanted, the residue was thrown 
back on the wagons, that had been run and 
piled together, and made food for the flames. 
The train was but partly consumed when 
our cavalry appeared upon the scene and a 
sharp fight ensued, with the result that the 
women were released from their unpleasant 
situation. 

While the beleaguered army in Chatta- 
nooga, foregoing, if not forgetting, the pangs 
of hunger, echoed the language of Thomas 
in his telegram to Grant, "We will hold this 
place until we starve," it was with right good 
will that it marched out in front of its works 
on an eventful November morning, being 
ordered to make a "demonstration" and re- 



36 The Twin Seven-Shooters. 

lieve the pressure on Sherman in his effort 
to take Tunnel Hill, the right flank of the 
semi-circular natural defense of the enemy, 
composed of Missionary Ridge, with its crest 
from five hundred to eight hundred feet 
above us, around to Lookout on the left with 
its proud head over two thousand feet above 
the town. It was a crescent, with defensive 
works erected with engineering skill, bris- 
tling with guns and reflecting threatening 
lights as the sun played upon the musket 
barrels and bayonets in the hands of skilled 
and brave defenders. It looked like the 
curve of the cutting edge of a huge scimitar. 
A feeling of amity, almost of fraterniza- 
tion, had existed between the picket lines in 
front of Wood's division for many days. In 
the early morning of that day, being in 
charge of the left of our picket line, I re- 
ceived a turn-out and salute from the Con- 




MAP OF THE BATTLEFIELD OF CHATTANOOGA SHOWING 

THE POSITION OF THE CONFEDERATE ARMY 

AT LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN AND 

MISSION RIDGE. 



The Capture. 37 

federate reserve as I rode the line. But the 
friendly relation was soon to be rudely dis- 
turbed. My pickets, composed of the 19th 
Ohio and the 9th Kentucky, became the 
line of skirmishers. Our troops being well 
out of their works, we advanced with our 
left resting on Citico Creek, and I believe 
that from these regiments came the first 
shots in that glorious advance that re- 
sulted in the taking of Orchard Knob, the 
key of the enemy's position. 

With impatient joy they witnessed the 
stars and stripes on Lookout's crest, and 
heard the guns of Hooker on the enemy's 
left. The evidences of the hard fighting by 
Sherman and the stubborn resistance 
Bragg's right was giving him were borne on 
every wind. The flanking assaults upon 
the Ridge were not achieving success. There 
must be another "demonstration" by the 



38 The Twin Seven-Shooters. 

center. Grant stands on Orchard Knob, 
silently smoking the inevitable cigar. He 
sees the heavy work to the right and left and 
that the waning day is showing its lengthen- 
ing shadows. The center must again re- 
lieve the pressure. To Thomas goes the 
order : "Take the rifle-pits at the foot of the 
ridge. At the six-gun signal from Orchard 
Knob, advance the lines to the attack." 
Baird, Wood, Sheridan and Johnson were 
quickly in the order named from left to 
right. 

Restlessly they await the signal. It is 
well on to four o'clock. At last the sharp 
report of a cannon from the Knob ! An- 
other ! and another ! and in quick succession 
the six have thundered forth the order for 
the charge. 

To your feet and forward, men of the 
Cumberland! "Take the rifle-pits at the 



The Capture. 39 

foot of the ridge," is the order. How splen- 
didly they respond. Adding emphasis to 
their loud huzzas is the noise of the light 
artillery on the plain and the deep roar of 
the" big siege guns in the forts of Chatta- 
nooga. The crest of the ridge throws its 
full weight of metal at the lines of blue. 
The musketry fire from the pits is full in 
their faces. But neither shot nor shell can 
stop the impetuous advance. On and on 
they go, surmounting every obstacle. 

The order is obeyed. 

The rifle-pits are ours and their late de- 
fenders our prisoners. How the grey jack- 
ets hasten to the rear. We wonder at their 
haste, but soon understood it when the guns 
of the ridge, depressed to sweep the pits, 
seemed to open the gates of hell itself upon 
us. 

We cannot stay. Must we fall back? Per- 



40 The Twin Seven-Shooters. 

ish the thought. No! No! No order 
given, and yet to every man the impulse. 
Forward the whole line ! To the crest of the 
ridge and take the guns! Every man for- 
ward ! 

Grape and canister from fifty cannon for- 
bid the advance. Wood, Sheridan, Baird, 
Johnson, Willich, Hazen, Beatty, Carlin. 
Turchin, Vanderveer, catching the spirit 
from the men, shout, "Up, boys! To the 
top!'' and grape and canister, wounds and 
death are forgotten. 

On and on and up and up we go, "while 
all the world wondered." Grant turns to 
Thomas, and, with distress if not anger in 
his voice, says, "Who ordered those men up 
the ridge?" Replies our old hero, "I don't 
know, I did not." Says Grant, "Granger, 
did you?" "No," says Granger, "they 




GENERAL, GEORGE H. THOMAS 
"The Rock of Chickamauga." 



The Capture. 41 

started without orders. When those fel- 
lows get started, all hell can't stop them." 

With hearts in their throats these anxious 
chieftains watch. The spectators in Chat- 
tanooga hold their breath in terrible sus- 
pense. It looks a desperate venture, a fool- 
hardy effort. Can they make the top, or 
will they be driven back to the plain, with 
columns broken and ranks disordered? 

The musketry fire from the intrenched 
line in grey is murderous. The cannon 
belch forth incessantly. 

"It is as though men fought upon the 
earth and fiends in the upper air." 

Not a shot from the wedge-shaped lines in 
blue as they advance with the colors of regi- 
ments at the apex of the triangles. Sixty 
regiments in rivalry for the lead! Colors 
fall as their bearers sink in death, but other 



42 The Twin Seven-Shooters. 

stout arms nerved by brave hearts bear the 
flag aloft. 

Ah ! the lines waver ! they cannot make 
it ! But repulse means defeat and loss of 
all we have gained. 

Look ! again they go forward ! Will they 
reach the crest? See ! the answer ! A flag! 
the nation's flag! Our flag upon the top! 
Another, and yet another ! The crest breaks 
out in glory! It is the apotheosis of the 
banner of the free! 

The rebel lines are broken ! We are into 
their works! Cheer upon cheer "set the 
wild echoes flying" from Tunnel Hill to 
Lookout! They tell of victory! glorious, 
exultant victory. 

Forty pieces of cannon and 7,000 stand of 
arms with 6,000 prisoners captured give 
emphasis to the story. 




GENERAL GEORGE H. THOMAS AND STAFF AFTER THE 
BATTLE OF MISSION RIDGE. 



The Capture. 43 

The bars are down for entrance next cam- 
paign to Atlanta, gate city of the South. 

I went through the starvation siege of 
Chattanooga, the battles of Orchard Knob 
and Mission Ridge, and the winter march 
to relieve Burnside, who was penned up in 
Knoxville, in very uncomfortable plight, 
depending upon my brother officers for the 
clothing to keep me warm, but that which 
caused me the most distress was the loss, as 
I naturally supposed, forever, of the twin 
revolvers that rest now so peacefully before 
us, reminders of a time of great happenings 
by the side of which all else in life seems of 
trifling importance. 



44 The Twin Seven-Shooters. 



SCENE IV. 

THE REUNION. 

Twenty years passed away, with their 
changes for good and for ill. The great 
war seemed like a dream, and its events were 
dim and shadowy. But there remained to 
me some substantial evidence of its reality. 
Upon the wall hung the good sword, with 
the dent in its scabbard telling of the death 
struggle of the brave black mare, whose 
name should be on Stone Biver's roll of 
honor. In the corner stood the regimental 
flag, presented by my comrades when we 
parted in 1865, the deep scar upon its staff 
matching the deeper scar upon the manly 



Uf c 




'IN THE CORNER STOOD THE REGIMENTAL FLAG 

PRESENTED BY MY COMRADES WHEN WE 

PARTED IN 1865. THE DEEP 

SCAR UPON ITS STAFF 

MATCHED THE DEEPER SCAR 

UPON THE MANLY BREAST OF 

ITS BEARER IN THE BRAVE 

DAYS OF OLD." 



The Reunion. 45 

breast of its bearer "in the brave days of 
old." I looked at tlieni and longed for the 
twin seven-shooters that should keep them 
company. 

Representing my adopted State, Nebras- 
ka, in the Senate, I had reached a position 
that had at least given my name notoriety. 
It chanced that the Major of an Iowa caval- 
ry regiment saw it in the public prints and 
was prompted to write me. "Are you," said 
he, "the man who commanded the 19th 
Ohio during the war? If so, I have a pistol 
that must belong to you, for the fact of its 
presentation is engraved upon it," I am 
quick to respond, and in brief time there 
came the pistol, as welcome to my hand and 
heart as an old-time friend. 

He wrote me its history. During the 
days of the period of reconstruction he was 
on duty in Alabama, and upon the person of 



46 The Twin Seven-Shooters. 

a man whom he arrested was found the re- 
volver. The Major took it from him and 
had held it since, hoping that some time he 
might meet the owner. Hearty thanks went 
to him, and I longed all the more for its 
mate, somewhere existing, but probably 
never to be recovered by me. 

Twenty-eight years elapse after the cav- 
alry raid in the Sequatchie Valley. The 
Congress is in session and a dreary debate 
drags its weary length through the hours. 
My yawning presence in the Senate Cham- 
ber would only add emphasis to the dullness 
there, and I go to the Committee Room, to 
engage in the usual employment of a Con- 
gressman's spare hours, the dictation of re- 
plies to the endless letters, from every direc- 
tion, on every conceivable subject. There 
comes a messenger, and this his message: 
"The compliments of Senator Pugh of Ala- 



The Reunion. 47 

Lama, who requests the pleasure of seeing 
you in the Marble Room." I respond 
quickly to the call, and go to the room of 
simplicity and beauty that is one of the chief 
attractions under the great white dome. 
Near at hand are three men, two of them 
well known by me, the third a stranger. 

I hasten to greet my colleague, and then 
shake hands with warmth of greeting with 
a gentleman I have grown to respect and 
like. It is General Wheeler, once a dash- 
ing cavalry leader of Confederates, he who 
harried our rear so persistently and pro- 
nouncedly; reconstructed into a leader in 
forensic debate, an authority on parlia- 
mentary law, and an all-around legislator, 
whose trenchant pen was surely as mighty 
as his vigorous sword. Cuba and the Phil- 
ippines are the scenes of his later triumphs, 
and there is no name upon the Army Roll 



48 The Twin Seven-Shooters. 

more honored now for patriotic devotion 
and soldierly ability than that of him who, 
during the dark days of the civil strife, was 
the Marshal Ney of the Confederacy. 

I am introduced by the courtly Senator 
Pugh to his esteemed constituent, ex-Con- 
federate Colonel Reeves, of Alabama. I 
greet him with pleasure, for he bears upon 
him those evidences that command respect. 
Both appearance and speech declare the 
Southerner, and the soft broad accents fall 
pleasingly upon the ear. He said, "I think, 
sir, I have something that once belonged to 
you, and will give it to you with pleasure, 
for I presume from the inscription upon it 
you will prize it highly." 

He produces the long-lost revolver and 
tells its story. He bought it and its com- 
panion from one of General Wheeler's troop- 
ers, who said he captured it at the battle of 



The Reunion. 49 

Mission Ridge. I mildly suggest that at 
Mission Ridge the captures were on the 
other side. He smiled acquiescence and 
said he cared little at the time of purchase 
from whence they came, so that they might 
be his. He had carried them through the 
war until a fearful wound had disabled 
him from further field duty. 

After the war he had loaned one to the 
sheriff of his county and from him it had 
been captured by some of our troops. I 
told him of the return of that one to me eight 
years before. We exchange reminiscences 
of the great struggle. We compare experi- 
ences. Enemies in war, we are in peace 
friends. 

Handling his revolver with easy grace and 
caressing gesture, he makes it mine again, 
saying as he passes it to me, with pardon- 
able reluctance, "I tell you, sir, that is a 



50 The Twin Seven-Shooters. 

mighty close shooting pistol." I cordially 
agree to that sentiment, and we both dwell 
in thought upon the career of these messen- 
gers of death that have fought beneath two 
flags, giving loyal support to their masters. 
who have fought each one loyally for his 
own. 

And thus finding each other, after a quar- 
ter of a century of separation, they came 
back to me, to be cherished fondly and I 
hope never again to be used. 




"UPON THE WALL, HUNG THE GOOD SWORD, WITH THE 
DENT IN ITS SCABBARD. '• 



Epilogue. 51 



EPILOGUE. 

And so my friend, you have the truthful 
story. It is not one to excite special wonder, 
but causes, I take it, emotions of pleasure 
and thankfulness. 

As the pistols have come peacefully to- 
gether, so have north and south united in 
fraternity and in devotion to one flag and 
a common country. The war taught mu- 
tual respect, and never again can there come 
between these sections the hatred, based 
upon mutual misunderstandings, that led to 
the attempt at dismemberment. The men 
who did the fighting during those four years 
of bloody war can have no sympathy with 



52 Epilogue. 

the incendiaries who would array section 
against section upon any subject. Their 
motto is bear and forbear. The disposition 
to fraternize was strong among them even 
during the strife, and with them now is the 
brotherhood that is the inevitable incident 
of unity of national purpose and a patriotic 
desire for one destiny. 

Long ago, while condemning the false 
teaching that led to the belief that alle- 
giance was to the State, we appreciated how 
deep abiding was the honest conviction of 
those who, taught in a different school from 
us, made untold sacrifice for the cause they 
espoused. 

Forgetting nothing of the past — the cruel 
blow at nationality, the unhallowed attack 
upon the flag, with all the sad results of 
weeping and wounds, of desolation and 
death — we have forgiven everything. 



Epilogue. 53 

Full citizenship, with all of honor, of 
governing power, and controlling rights that 
the term imports, has been accorded to all 
who participated or lent aid and comfort 
to the enemies of the Union. 

As the victors and the vanquished have 
recognized equal courage and even powers 
of endurance, there has come mutual re- 
spect. Through the throes and labor of 
reconstruction, with the contact of peoples, 
the interchange of commerce, the common 
interests of the different parts of the na- 
tional whole, the dovetailing of States 
through the construction of the iron high- 
ways of trade, and mutual contribution of 
the capital needed for the development of 
the new South has come peaceful, contented 
reconciliation. The years that gather wis- 
dom and experience to all long ago taught 
the lesson even to those who fousht for it, 



54 Epilogue. 

that the cause for which they struggled and 
suffered was better lost than won. 

Hail the epoch of concord ! All hail, the 
era of fraternity ! 

Let us close the lid of the mahogany box, 
believing that the pair snugly ensconced 
within it shall never serve save as polished 
reminders of other days. 



MAR.U I9W 



